


i hate you

by ThisJoyAndI



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bellamy is an ass, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3910504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisJoyAndI/pseuds/ThisJoyAndI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(everything about you)<br/>Bellamy and Clarke take a history class together, and Bellamy is an total asshole. 'Unfortunately, no matter how much her fingers itch with the desire to hit him right in his freckly nose, violence of any nature is prohibited on campus, and she isn’t about to get her scholarship revoked simply because Bellamy Blake is, as per usual, being a complete and utter ass.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	i hate you

Bellamy fucking Blake is one hundred percent, completely and utterly, the _biggest_ asshole she has ever had the misfortune of knowing.

She’s including Finn Collins in this decision by the way, the jerk who’d dared to make her fall in love with him, dated her and promised her the world, all the while still being engaged to another girl. Clarke has had the misfortune of encountering many assholes in her time, especially seemingly hundreds of drunken pervs whom slide up to her at the bar and try to leer down her top, thinking that just because she is in a bar she presumably must be drunk and won’t notice them leering at her.  

But Bellamy Blake is the biggest asshole of them all, and god how she wishes she could punch him square in his face.

Unfortunately, no matter how much her fingers itch with the desire to hit him right in his freckly nose, violence of any nature is prohibited on campus, and she isn’t about to get her scholarship revoked simply because Bellamy Blake is, as per usual, being a complete and utter ass. All she can do, all she has been doing for the last six weeks of classes, is shout back at him, raising her voice in an attempt to make herself heard.

But no matter how much she shouts back at him, Bellamy is still refusing to agree with her argument, despite the obvious evidence that she’s pretty much hand-feeding to him. Just because he has two years of studying history on her, just because she’s just transferred from medicine to art history – that seemingly makes him feel as if he has the right to constantly challenge her, constantly provoke her, even like right now, when they both know that she’s goddamn right!

She hasn’t earned her scholarship for nothing, hasn’t earned it purely on the merit of the Griffin name and her mother’s contacts. She knows her stuff, even if Bellamy thinks he knows more. What’s infuriating beyond belief is the fact that he refuses to acknowledge her intelligence, even when their teacher agrees with her arguments.  She could get the highest marks in the class, and he’d still think she earned her grade because her mother knows the ‘right people’.

Clarke glares at him as she finishes up with her latest point, one that effectively counters his belief that Augustus wasn’t actively trying to become a king (which, duh, he totally was), crossing her arms over her chest and huffing slightly. As usual, Bellamy merely smirks back, tapping his pen against his book as he thinks of an argument to throw back at her. She takes advantage of the unusual lull to quickly look around the classroom, noting that her other classmates, ones that aren’t nationally recognised assholes, are once again all preoccupied with their phones, taking advantage of the fact that Bellamy and Clarke are arguing once again and eating up precious class time to scroll through their Facebooks and Instagrams.

She’d be angry at them, because why should they even bother taking this class if they aren’t prepared to actually contribute to class discussion, but all of her anger has been focused towards Bellamy lately.

Raven always finds it hilarious when she tells her all about her latest encounters with Bellamy, and a few weeks ago when she quipped, “There’s a fine line between love and hate”, Clarke hadn’t hesitated to throw a book at her.  

If only she had a book on hand right now to hit Bellamy with. She’d whack him square in his freckly face, and wipe the smirk right off his stupid lips. Probably break his nose too, but who really cares?

 _What an asshole_ , she thinks, as Bellamy stops tapping his pen and parts his lips once more, obviously preparing to spit some argument back at her. He can’t help himself, it seems, and she hates him for it.

The teacher apparently agrees with her, because he sighs and points to both of them, stopping Bellamy from speaking. “Griffin, Blake, both of you need to get out of my classroom right now,” he says, and her eyes quickly whip from Bellamy to him, eyebrow arched in confusion.

Bellamy bears the same shocked expression as she does, and the teacher merely counters her eyebrow raise with one of his own. “It was great the first time you two argued, fantastic even. I finally had students passionate enough about the history to argue with each other, and I loved it. But it’s been six weeks of you two arguing now, and I’m sick of it.” He points to them again, and then to the closed door. “You both need to leave my classroom now, because I’m over you two arguing. Hell, I haven’t heard any other student speak in this classroom in six weeks, and how am I supposed to actively grade class participation if I don’t even know what the other students are thinking?!”

Clarke splutters, but Bellamy has already half-risen from his seat, bag slung over his shoulder and book in hand. She doesn’t move for a moment or two, remains stuck to her seat and silent – because how can she be getting kicked out of class, when she’s the best student here?! The teacher coughs from his position at his desk, and arches his eyebrow once more at her.

“Come on princess,” Bellamy murmurs, already standing by the door, his free hand on the doorknob. “You heard the teacher.”

And just like that, instantly at him daring to say the nickname she deplores even more than Bellamy himself, she’s angry once more at him and not at their teacher.

She glares at him, shoves her things in her bag, and slams her chair under her desk with enough force to make the rest of the class look up from their phones, lips parted in shock.

 _Have fun you idiots_ , she thinks, glaring at her teacher. _Have fun trying to discuss Augustus when most of you probably don’t even know who he was._

Bellamy holds the door open for her, shrugging softly, and she storms through it, slamming it behind her loudly, chest rising and falling heavily with anger.

The only sound in the empty hallway for a few moments is her heavy breathing, Bellamy slouching against the wall and retrieving his phone from his pocket. When her breathing finally returns to normal, she sits down beside him, folding her hands in her lap and glaring in the direction of the shut door. All she can hear from inside the classroom is the sound of their teacher asking numerous questions and being met with silence, and she has to laugh at that.

 _Serves him right_ , she thinks, and Bellamy looks up at her at the sound of her laughter, forehead furrowed. When she clues him in, he laughs too, and the sound is almost great enough to make her forget he’s a complete and utter asshole, and the reason why she’s just been kicked out of class for the first time in her entire schooling history.

“You’re almost as hot when you laugh as you are when you angry,” he tells her, and the confession shocks her just enough that she doesn’t instantly punch him right in his face for saying such a thing.

She doesn’t, and Bellamy grins at her, standing up and offering her a hand. Clarke takes it, and sees the way his eyes drop to her exposed cleavage as she smooths down her blouse and skirt combo.

She should definitely punch him for that, but she doesn’t, because hell she’s caught herself admiring the curve of his ass and the definition of his forearms plenty of times over the last few weeks. Bellamy is hot, she knows this, and if he wasn’t such an ass, she'd definitely be trying to sleep with him.

“Come on Griffin,” he murmurs, placing a hand on the small of her back and guiding her out of the empty hallway. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

It’s only two-thirty in the afternoon, but that doesn’t stop Clarke from arguing, “You just got me kicked out of the class for the first time ever. You’re buying me two drinks.”

Bellamy merely laughs, nodding in acceptance of her demands, and she spends the next hour trying hard to think of reasons why she shouldn’t sleep with him, no matter how much of an asshole he is.

She doesn’t try hard enough it seems, because two weeks later she’s falling into bed with him, only pulling her lips away from his to argue that Cleopatra was totally not to blame for Caesar’s downfall. This time, it seems Bellamy either agrees with her argument entirely, or perhaps he’s just too preoccupied with taking her shirt off to argue back, because he remains silent, peppering kisses against her neck with enough skill to make her moan.

Clarke still counts his silence as a win nonetheless, thank you very much.  

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking a Roman history class right now, and god I wish I had a Bellamy to argue with. So, I guess, this was born. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> Semi-inspired by the “we argued so much during a class discussion that we both got kicked out and we’re still arguing outside of class” au.


End file.
